The Need to Say Something More
by omfg it's sophie
Summary: FrankAlice!angst. Being insane isn’t like some people would put it. Being insane is just like not being insane. But when you’re insane everything goes at a slower pace. It is like walking through treacle.


**A/N Frank is my new obsession forever. **

**Disclaimer: How I wished I owned him.**

The ceiling is white, the walls are white and the cover is white. The lamp, though, the lamp is green and red. The red stands out horribly, like a sore spot. There are drawings and posters on the wall as well. There are a lot of drawings, more drawings than posters. Drawings of a young child with just stick figures and lots of colour. Drawings of a young child who was told that if he draws very, very well his parents would feel better. There are drawings of dragons and broomsticks, people and animals. All of them are brightly coloured, some older than others. The posters are all of animals. Wolves, birds, lions and squirrels. There were grindylows and Red Caps, dragons and unicorns. Frank looks up at these posters and drawings without moving from his bed. He reaches out a hand slowly, frowning, touching a bit of the red on the edge of a bird's wing. He pulls his hand away as if burnt and hisses slightly through his teeth.

_The need to remember something, the constant urging that there is something that has to be done._

Dark blonde hair lies flopped against his forehead, nothing like the scruffy, thick mop he had had earlier. His face is pale and tired looking and he is thinner than is probably healthy. A Healer comes into the room and glances at Frank.

"Are you all right, Mr Longbottom?" she asks, smiling as she does a button up on his shirt. He looks at her, frowning.

_The need to see someone, to say something to them. _

No, it isn't who he needs. Hands push up, resting on her chest and he feels her tense slightly under his hands. Frank shakes his head slowly, moving his hands back and nodding as if to say it is alright. Being insane isn't like some people would put it. Being insane does not involve chains or yellow padded walls. Being insane is just like not being insane. But when you're insane everything goes at a slower pace. It is like walking through treacle. You come to terms with the fact that if you push it too hard you will get no response from it, but you have to move softly, move quietly.

The Healer smiles at Frank, a real smile that reaches her eyes. She understands what happened to the Longbottoms and she appreciates it. She thinks they should be treated like proper people, she understands.

_The constant feeling of something sitting on the tip of your tongue but never remembering it._

A woman sits up from a bed next to him and Frank looks at her for a while. Yes, he recognises her. Memories flood back, memories so close to him but so very far out of reach at the same time. Memories fly just out of grasp. Some memories, though, some of them stay in reach of grasp a little too long and Frank grabs them, frown growing weaker. He remembers a woman, a woman and a day long, long ago. A day with flowers and a day with chocolates. The day has a ring in it, the day has a cake, and the day has tears of joy. The day has the crying of a newborn and the smell of new baby clothes. The day has an old, old castle and a young shy girl. The day has feelings of embarrassment and joy and stupidity. The day is what he is looking for.

The day is a person, a name. The day is a smell and a feeling.

Frank makes a gesture towards Alice and a small smile lights up his tired face.

_The feeling of contentment, the feeling will go soon._

The Healer looks at her and her smile widens slightly.

"Alice," she says kindly. "Come here, Alice. I think Frank wants to see you? Don't you, Frankie?" Alice looked at Frank with eyes that had seen too much but hadn't remembered, eyes that had died long ago. They hadn't completely died, though. There was life still there, life hidden behind the confusion and the pain and the forget. Frank's smile widens slowly, just a bit. He puts his legs carefully over his bed and takes his time, pushing the hair delicately off of his forehead. Alice's eyes light up a bit and she gets out of bed, just as slowly, just as carefully. She takes a step towards Frank and he pats the bed beside of him and Alice sits down.

_This is what he wants; happiness is what he feels, happiness and love._

Arms embrace Alice and she leans into it, eyes closing. Frank puts his face gently in her hair. The Healer leaves the room.

The moment is as simple as it gets. It probably couldn't be any simpler. A hug is just an embrace, a small physical contact. But a hug can mean a hundred unsaid words. A hug could say 'I love you', 'I'm sorry' and 'I need you' all at thee same time. A hug could mean anything.

_The feeling that he needs to say something more._

**A/N –smiles-**


End file.
